How did I wake up this morning? Oh, I woke up because Chip and Yote like to wrestle on the bed in the early hours and Yote must have learned how to bob and weave like his momma and therefore Chip missed his target (like Code Monkey missed my face) and instead he bit my ass. I think I have stressed how serious waking me up is…imagine me waking up to a mouth full of sharp-ass puppy teeth taking a chomp at my ass cheek. I am super surprised the little fella found anything to grab onto for when I am lying down there is no roundness left and it melts into my hips and thighs. I love my ass, small rumps will make a comeback FYI. Everything always comes back around. I hate how easily people go with what they are told is in style, especially when it comes to their natural bodies. In my opinion. Everything is in style. Everything is acceptable. OYS. Stop listening to what other people are saying or what other people are doing. DO YOU! That is what I find irresistibly attractive. People who are themselves inside and out, feel themselves and love themselves with confidence. Anyway…I could go on forever about this. It does however kinda tie into how I am about Christmas shopping or preparation for things like birthdays etc. I am totally content with waiting until the last 2-3 days and hammering out what I am going to get for the kiddos. I am not sure if it is because their birthday is in October, they are bought and given everything they want and need by their grandmother, or if it is just my nature to not feel obligated to make a big planned stink surrounding gifts. They will have plenty. They always do. I just don’t get crazy about making it happen. I don’t like that aspect of life. And it was pretty crazy because as I was writing this out, I had two separate conversations about this that I did not initiate. One was about women who require or expect gifts and the other was about how laid back we are about buying them for Christmas. I think gifts should be something you see and feel for someone. Something meaningful, sporadic, and special. Not something you just grab and wrap because there is a holiday or birthday. But of course, I do just that to not let people down. One year, I spent a Christmas with a no-gift rule. We spent the day hiking, brought a change of clothes, and went to a nice dinner followed by a wine bar campfire, and music. Yup. The very same one that all those years later I melted my ass out of onto the sidewalk when dipshit said I was an unlovable woman and cringed at my taste in wine…It was the most beautiful Christmas, the only thing I would take back was peeing on the lawn of the funeral home. That was rude of me.  I want more of these types of Christmas, and eventually nothing but these kinds of holidays. It is easier as the kids get older to transition them into this. I like to daydream about taking them on a big trip every year instead. It is nice that they are now old enough to understand this concept and are beginning to appreciate this aspect of life as well…at least that’s what I asked Santa for this year. What is not nice is the amount of testosterone that comes with the aging of boys. Man, it has been a rough go for a bit. I just keep trying to reiterate to them how important our relationship is to me and how I want to grow through this together and understand more by the time it is all said and done…only after losing my fucking mind and temper from being pushed to my breaking point in an almost seemingly planned attack that sometimes ends in laughter and sometimes tears. I crawled into bed with Avery at about 4 am a few nights ago after feeling terrible for the evening we had together. I did not wake to a dog biting my little ass when I woke up there. It was a good morning. The bar is low.

I spent an hour or so in the store doing some Christmas shopping today. My body felt physically heavy and I felt particularly wiped out and mentally overloaded to the point of going numb. I had my AirPods in and was pushing the cart through the crowded aisles with Chevelle blaring at maximum volume…Tis’ The Season, eh? I tend to notice less of what is going on around me when I listen to music and get in my groove but also with fewer details when I opt out of wearing my glasses. Therefore I can tolerate so much more. I did both today. We are in charge of creating our happiness. This is a major way I create mine. I asked the cashier if she had the sticky strip to put on a box, you know the one that creates a makeshift handle that holds up better than a $100 bra. Speaking of which, I was so checked out while shopping, I did not even notice I had the three-boob thing going on. My right one had slipped out just a smidge and created a third bulge. I was just bouncing around the store with tears in my eyes, musical rage creating a bubble around me as I am certain others could hear it, and sporting a third friend who could not be contained. She sounds like me. After I asked the cashier if she had those strips to help me out, she looked at me and said “Those?” as she pointed to them at another checkout stand. I smiled and said “That’d be the one!” walked over and got one and then walked back and did it myself with Hilda cheering me on in the bleachers. Do not get me started on customer service…The parking lot was insane and I tend to like to park away from everyone and with a bit of a walk away from the store on a regular day. Imagine Christmas shopping. I walked outside and began my journey to Bossy. Low and behold another blue Subaru found her and parked to her left out in BFE and it made me smile, so of course I took a photo that I will never do anything with other than smile at when I stumble upon it and continue to pay for more storage on my phone for shit like this (note to self: use it for this blog). Bossy always makes friends. I love that type of silent stranger camaraderie. The gravitation to park next to another Subaru that is sitting there when there are so many other choices. Once I came back to a handful of them surrounding her. I always imagine meeting the people who drive them and it spoils the whole fucking sentiment and joy in it. So I try and keep it simple and only live in the brief moment for Bossy and her non-human, therefore less complicated friendships. The cart return was a bit away but I hate leaving things where they don’t belong so I put my things in the back of my blue wagon, and began my walk again. I got about halfway to the cart corral when a man (a firefighter) turned around with the biggest smile and said, “I can take that for you ma’am. Merry Christmas, ma’am…” And I thought yup, those are my kind of people, he was nice without even having the chance to see my third boob to encourage him to be so, he was smiling before she jiggled his way. I hopped back in Bossy, ate a beef stick, and headed to the grocery store after this. Yup, you guessed it, I parked at the back of the lot, popped my headphones back in (and not my 3rd girlfriend because I still was oblivious she existed), and made my way in. The store was so crowded and I had a very loose idea of what I needed floating around in my head so I drifted from one end of the store to the other for a while. I made my last grab of these specialty olives I am addicted to and made my way up to the front. Again it was so crowded, that I weaved the basket through the center dividers/displays, and at the end of the aisle, I saw a very fluorescent yellow shirt that was going left and right but not moving, just leaning. I got to the end, Chevelle still jamming in my ears and the yellow shirt became a man and his mouth was moving, his body was blocking my exit and I couldn’t hear him. I took my headphones out, memorized his face, questioned why the fuck he had a beanie on, and said, “I am sorry…?” He smiled calmly and said, “You are a beautiful woman.” I did my horrendous fake/caught off guard laugh and said “Thank you, Merry Christmas” and proceeded to mow over about 3 people to only get to a line I had to stand in while he was able to see me the whole time and regret his decision to trust I was mature enough to handle the encounter. Thankfully, my phone rang and I was saved by a random caller who was conducting a survey, and although I did not take the survey, I spoke to her like she was a friend in need and I put on the most serious and concerned face. I have never spoken to a spam caller so kind and patiently, nor have I ever been able to get myself removed from a call list…until yesterday.

I unloaded Bossy and tidied up the house, spouting out random things for the boys to do that they were supposed to do while I was gone as we had friends coming over. Once this was complete, I made my way to my bathroom and was greeted by my third tit in the mirror. Then and only then did my day make more sense. I thought it was the softness in my face and eyes that had guys being extra nice to me…nope it was Hilda squeezing her way out of captivity and making a name for herself. Aight, Hilda, I see you…and they did too. I changed into my pajamas and greeted my guest with a shitty attitude only they would make better and forgive me for. Hilda did not attend.

This entry has been over 8 days. And while I know that sounds like a long time for one entry, these days it is not. The weeks are flying by. Today I promised Otis a little mom time. I asked for twenty minutes to get ready. He noted it would only work if he did not interrupt me getting dressed. Smart boy. Well, two minutes after he left, I found myself lying on my back on the bathroom floor and letting Chip walk all over my body while I was kissing on Eli with my legs straight up in the air. I was stretching out my back and figured some dog-loving would not hurt anyone. I did not make the twenty-minute deadline for I did a good enough job interrupting myself. It is nice to spend some one-on-one time with the kiddos. I have always made an effort for date nights with them, particularly because of them being twins and longing to be seen as an individual and not just “the twins.” On our way back home, I saw my hawk friend, made sure no one was behind me, stopped the car in the middle of the on-ramp, rolled down my window, and shouted up to my hawk, “Merry Christmas, I love you!” This is the second time he has flown away from me in the last couple of weeks. I guess I need to bring Hilda next time. She seems to be everyone’s favorite. Otis too was in his zone, as we entered back into our neighborhood he began making funny sounds and was simultaneously distracted by watching a squirrel that darted in front of us proceed to climb a tree. Since we both were overstimulated and not helping one another out, I turned the car sharply into our driveway which has a curb FYI, and made Bossy roar as she took the bump with great strength. I was laughing so fucking hard at how both of our bodies slammed back against the seats. Otis looked over at me and with the funniest dorkiest voice said “Gollyyyyyy mom, what is wrong with you?!” I slammed on the brakes just under the garage door as it opened, grabbed my stomach, and put my head on the steering wheel laughing so damn hard I couldn’t get a word out in response. Otis’ sweet face lit up and he just busted out laughing and we sat in the car in silent-stomach-aching laughter, just the two of us barely breathing. I fucking love him. And I love Bossy for jolting us back into this moment together. When Avery was younger he often would take the lead in doing something like this. Once when I was making them pancakes, I had them both sitting on the kitchen countertop “helping” me. He grabbed an egg and looked up at me then back down at the floor, then back up at me again as he took his chubby little hand and released the egg. I laughed, grabbed an egg, and slammed it onto the ground as well. We finished off the egg carton and not making the pancakes. Laughed our asses off and cleaned up the mess. I probably fed them something like Doritos after and we survived. Without a sense of humor, without testing the limits and realizing it is not always the disaster you fear, without letting the fuck go and cutting loose now and then, life to me is just wasted. I hope my sons always remember this and find the balance. Just like when we were watching 60 Days In last night and I told them I cannot imagine you going to jail and me having no control over what happens to you and not being able to fix it for you, please don’t ever do something so fucking dumb, hang around with the wrong people or fuck your life or someone else’s up. To which Avery replied, ummm you can’t do anything…? Bail me out, Mom! I guess the innocence in his reply has a lot of answers in and of itself. My sweet boys are getting older, but they are still my babies in so many ways…sometimes that is hard to remember after I speak with them and realize they are more mature and advanced emotionally and intellectually than a lot of adults I know…sometimes myself included. And to close, I feel like I need to make this abundantly clear for a multitude of reasons…I know this may come as a surprise, but consider it a Christmas gift…

I DO NOT KNOW EVERYTHING…SOMETIMES I KNOW NOTHING…I ALWAYS WANT TO LEARN FROM OTHERS, I MAKE MISTAKES, I AM NOT PERFECT, I WANT TO GROW MORE EVERYDAY…and so does Hilda. Amen.